


I Ain't Missing You

by phoenixquest



Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: Angst, Getting Together, Happy Ending, M/M, Misunderstandings, fluff at the end
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-15
Updated: 2019-07-15
Packaged: 2020-06-29 01:05:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,413
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19819348
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phoenixquest/pseuds/phoenixquest
Summary: "If your door is open tonight, I will come to you." Hawke would cling to those words the rest of the day. Anders would wonder whether he'd regret them. And then... Leandra would unwittingly lock the door before bed.





	I Ain't Missing You

Hawke was _anxious_. He couldn’t help it. He was sure he’d wear a hole in the floor if he kept pacing back and forth in his bedroom, but he just couldn’t settle.

Anders would show up any minute, he knew. He’d made sure the door was unlocked, and to keep himself from staring at it all night (or simply going through it and seeking out the mage himself), he’d retreated to his room. 

It wasn’t doing him much good. He’d stand by the fire, staring at it for a few minutes, and then resume his relentless pacing.

How long had it been? Hours, it felt like. He was sure the mage was going to come, though.

Wasn’t he?

He’d been the one to offer, after all. Then again, Hawke was the one who had pushed, who had kept up with the flirting, who had nearly begged for him. Maybe…maybe he wouldn’t come. Maybe he thought that would let Hawke down easier.

No. He was going to come. He’d just gotten held up; that was all. Hawke sat down on the bed then, deciding he’d just try to relax. He was getting a bit tired, after all. Just a quick little nap…Anders would wake him, he was sure of it.

*****

Anders crept furtively through Hightown, taking every care not to alert anyone to his presence. He was no sneak, that was for sure, but he was doing his best. Finally, he reached the door of the Hawke estate and stopped for a moment, his heart absolutely pounding in his chest.

This was it. It was really happening. Three years of aching for the man, and tonight…he’d finally get his answer. Half of him was still sure the answer would be ‘no’ – part of him even _wanted_ Hawke to have listened to him. It would be better that way. But the man had seemed so sincere…

Taking a deep breath, Anders stepped to the door. He steeled himself, putting his hand on the handle. And pulled.

It didn’t budge.

Anders paused for a moment, stunned. He hadn’t realized just how sure he’d been that the door _would_ be unlocked until that moment. Disbelieving, he tried again. The door still wouldn’t move.

The mage felt suddenly as though all the air had been knocked out of him. A lump rose in his throat. He didn’t know why he should feel so hurt, so emotional at this; it was silly. He’d _told_ Hawke, hadn’t he? He’d _told_ the man he was warning him away! Why in Andraste’s name should he be upset that Hawke _listened_?

Nonetheless, he couldn’t stop the sob that bubbled up in his chest a moment later. He closed his eyes, gulping, trying to get ahold of himself. Why should it hurt this badly? He was being ridiculous. He could feel something like a comforting thought coming from the part of him that was Justice; it didn’t help very much.

How could he have been so stupid to let himself fall for this man so completely? He knew better. He _knew_ better! But it didn’t matter anymore, obviously. He would pick himself up, and he would move on. There were more important things anyway.

Defeated, he let go of the handle and made his way back to Darktown.

*****

Hawke awoke to find sunlight streaming through the window. He was still dressed; he’d fallen asleep on the bed, and hadn’t been awoken.

Anders hadn’t come.

A crushing weight settled upon him, making it hard to breathe. He’d been so sure…

Maybe the mage had gotten busy. Maybe he’d been too tired. Or…maybe he was ill?

Then a thought struck Hawke that made his blood run cold. What if the clinic had been raided? What if they’d caught – no, he told himself firmly. They hadn’t got him in three years, they didn’t have him now. Surely the mage was fine.

But he knew he ought to go check. Just in case. And…for his own peace of mind.

He dressed in a hurry, said a quick “good morning” to his mother who was just coming in the door with bags from shopping, and made his way to Darktown.

Upon finding the clinic empty, Hawke began to panic. Everything was intact; it certainly didn’t look like it had been raided. But then where was the mage?

He quickly hurried to The Hanged Man. Maybe Varric would know.

“Hey, Hawke!” Varric greeted him cheerfully. “How about a drink?”

“Not right now,” Hawke said quickly. “Listen, Varric, have you seen Anders today? He’s not in his clinic.”

“No, I haven’t,” Varric shrugged. “Why’d you need him?”

“I – I just – “ Hawke choked off, not sure what he ought to say at all. He really didn’t want to confess that the mage had stood him up the night before…if that was what had happened. “I just…wondered. You know. Maybe the Templars…?”

“Right,” Varric snorted. “Believe me, Hawke, the Templars don’t have him. Even if I wasn’t keeping an eye on the place, if they had Blondie they’d be crowing about it to the whole city.”

“I guess,” Hawke said, panic showing through his voice.

“You worry too much,” Varric chuckled. “He’s probably off with the mage underground or something.”

“Right,” Hawke said tightly. Well, that would explain why he hadn’t shown up the night before; maybe he’d been needed suddenly. And he couldn’t exactly leave a message for Hawke about where he’d gone, if that was the case.

He _hoped_ that was the case.

Bidding farewell to a disappointed Varric, Hawke headed back toward Hightown. He just needed something to distract him. That would help.

*****

Anders sighed, wishing his trip to the Wounded Coast had been a little more distracting than it was. He didn’t even have a reason for coming out here, but…he had to get away from the city. He couldn’t sit around and wait for Hawke to find him, with his apologetic ‘sorry, changed my mind’ speech. But after a while, staring at the sea was just not doing anything to fix the problem.

He got to his feet, trudging his way back to Kirkwall. He’d have to return sooner or later; Justice was already making him feel restless about leaving the clinic. Anyway, he was sure to have plenty of patients in need of help, and that had to be more distracting than staring at the dull gray water.

The mage stopped at The Hanged Man, deciding to spend a bit of his meager coin to grab something to eat. Most of it would go to his patients, he was sure, but he never minded.

“Hey, Blondie,” Varric said when he saw the forlorn mage. “Hawke was looking for you earlier.”

“Of course he was,” Anders sighed, taking his bread from the barkeep. He couldn’t be surprised, really. Varric looked at him thoughtfully.

“Something happen with you two?” Varric asked.

“What?” Anders replied quickly. “No, of course not. I was just…out. I’ll see him sometime, I’m sure.”

“Right,” Varric frowned. Anders could tell he wasn’t convinced. “Well, let him know you’re alive, will you? He was convinced the Templars had got you.” 

Anders snorted, wondering why the man would care at this point.

“Sure,” Anders replied. “Whatever.” With that, he headed out the door and back to his clinic.

*****

Hawke breathed more easily when Varric told him Anders was all right. He tried again to visit the mage at his clinic, to ask him about that night, but the mage was always so busy he couldn’t. Finally, the fourth time he tried, Anders was less busy and Hawke managed to get into the clinic at last.

“Hawke,” Anders nodded, a coolness to his voice that surprised the man.

“Hey,” Hawke said, trying not to show his surprise. “Look, about the other night – “

“It’s fine,” Anders cut him off, not looking at him. “We don’t need to discuss it. I have patients to attend to.” He turned on his heel and left Hawke standing there, utterly baffled. When the mage did indeed go to a patient’s bedside, Hawke decided it wasn’t a good idea to bother him further with this.

Heart sinking, he realized he had his answer. The mage hadn’t shown up because he hadn’t _wanted_ to show up. He swallowed hard, trying not to let his grief show, and walked slowly from the clinic.

*****

“It’s been a month,” Varric grumbled to Isabela. “They’re driving me crazy, Rivaini.”

“You’re just mad that you can’t write about them this way,” Isabela teased him, and he didn’t contradict her, merely smirking. “But you’re right, Varric. This can’t go on for another three years. And I think they’d let it.”

“They would,” Varric agreed. “Someone needs to just lock them in a room together. I can’t take one more night of Hawke’s wounded looks toward Blondie’s chair.”

“It’s worse than the obvious flirting,” Isabela sighed in agreement. “That sounds like an excellent plan,” she added. “We just have to find a way to get them both here, if we’re going to manage that.”

“How are we going to do that?” Varric asked. “Blondie doesn’t even leave his clinic anymore.”

“I have an idea,” Isabela said with a grin.

*****

“Isabela, I have a lot to take care of at the clinic,” Anders sighed wearily as the woman dragged him through the pub. “I really can’t stay long.”

“You have to join us for a little while,” Isabela argued. “You’re going to go mad by yourself in that clinic all the time. Just an hour of fun, all right?”

“Yes, yes, I’ll keep my word,” Anders replied, shaking his head. “Aren’t we stopping at Varric’s room?” he added, puzzled as they passed the usual gathering place.

“Not today, sweet thing,” Isabela grinned, pulling him along. “Tonight’s game is right in here.” 

Before Anders had time to react at all, Isabela had pushed him through a door into a darkened room and slammed the door. He heard a click, and knew she’d locked it behind him.

“Isabela!” he yelled, feeling quite angry now. “What is this all about? Let me out of here!” 

He heard a faint giggle, but there was no reply. He pounded on the door, knowing it would do no good. He considered using force magic to blast it down, but he didn’t exactly have the money to pay for the damage. With an angry sigh, he let his head fall against the door. 

“Dammit.”

“A-Anders?” a hesitant voice came out of the dark. The mage turned around, for the first time registering just how pitch-black the room was. He immediately felt a bubble of panic rising in his chest, but fought to force it down. Who was talking to him? Who was in here with him?

“Who’s there?” he asked aloud, his voice trembling despite his best efforts.

“It’s me,” the voice replied, sounding upset. “Hawke.”

“Hawke?” Anders asked, nonplussed and forgetting for a split second his fear. “What are you doing in here? Were you in on this?”

“I assure you, I wasn’t,” Hawke replied regretfully. “I don’t know what’s going on, or why you’re here. But…would it be at all possible for you to give us a bit of light? I really…don’t care for the dark.” 

Anders shook himself, remembering that he was in fact a mage and had the ability to cast a ball of dim light in the room. He did so, blinking around, looking for Hawke.

“Where are you?” he asked finally, the ball of light not enough to show the entire room.

“Over here,” Hawke replied. “I ah…could use a little help.” 

Anders followed the voice, finding Hawke sitting on a chair in a corner, his hands tied to the chair behind his back.

“Andraste’s arse, Hawke, what the hell happened?” Anders muttered, hurrying over to untie the man.

“Uh…Isabela,” Hawke replied sheepishly, sounding about as shaky as Anders still felt. “She told me she had a surprise for me, and talked me into letting her do…this.” 

Anders snorted, faintly amused, as he fought the knotted rope. “You let this happen?” Anders asked incredulously.

“I didn’t know she was going to leave me,” Hawke lamented. “Or…blow out the candles,” he added with a tremble. “Th-thank you.”

“Of course,” Anders said, his voice soft now. “Are you all right? Are you hurt at all?” It may be painful to be so near Hawke, but he _was_ a healer, after all.

“Yeah…I’m fine,” Hawke said, though he wriggled his hands. “Starting to hurt a bit, though.”

“I’m trying,” Anders told him. “My knife’s too dull.” He couldn’t get it through the ropes.

“Mine’s by my feet,” Hawke spoke up. Anders spotted the rogue’s dagger and deftly sliced the rope binding his hands. “Thank you,” he sighed in relief. “And for the light. Maker, I hate the dark.”

“So do I,” Anders replied wryly, still feeling a bit shaky. “This’ll last us a while, though,” he added, motioning to the light above them.

“What are you doing here?” Hawke asked, turning to face Anders then. The light wasn’t enough to really see each other’s faces, but Anders swore he could hear concern in Hawke’s voice.

“Isabela,” Anders replied. “Same as you. Though I was told I needed to come play cards for an hour.”

“Some prank,” Hawke said with a shaky laugh. “We’ll have to get them back.”

“I suppose so,” Anders nodded, turning away from Hawke. Maker, it was too painful. He hadn’t been this close to the man since they’d kissed, and hadn’t been alone with him either. “Any ideas on how to get out of here?”

“Fire?” Hawke suggested, his tone joking.

“I’d rather not burn down the tavern,” Anders replied dryly.

“I…don’t know, then,” Hawke said, sounding uneasy. “I mean…you don’t think she’ll leave us in here long, will she?”

“She’d better not,” Anders frowned. He sat down, leaning against a wooden box near the chair where Hawke was sitting. “I have things to do.”

“Yeah…” Hawke trailed off. Anders could feel the rogue’s eyes on him. “So. How…how are you doing?”

“Me? Same as always,” Anders shrugged, picking at a loose thread on his coat. “Nothing much changes in Darktown.”

“I…I miss you, you know,” Hawke said, so softly the mage could barely hear it. 

Anders felt his stomach clench. He really didn’t want to do this, not now, not ever.

“Hawke,” Anders murmured, swallowing hard. “Don’t. I don’t…don’t want to talk about this. What happened, happened. That’s the end of it. We both have better things to do than dwell on it.”

“I can’t help but dwell on it,” Hawke said, hurt in his voice though Anders couldn’t quite understand why _he_ should feel hurt. “I understand that you didn’t want to come…I’m fine with that. I just – I can’t stand never seeing you.”

“Didn’t want to - ?” Anders spluttered, suddenly angry. He hadn’t let himself think about it, hadn’t let himself feel anything. It was easier to push it away. Now that he was being forced to think about it, however…he was _angry_. “Don’t you dare try to put this off on me!” he yelled. “I did what I said; I came to the estate!” 

He looked at Hawke now, and saw the man looked bewildered. Well, he’d never really gotten angry like this in front of the rogue before; perhaps he deserved it! 

“I know you were just listening to me,” Anders ranted, feeling a pang of hurt as he remembered the locked door. “I know you were just doing as I’d told you. Finally. But did you have to lead me on so long, Hawke? Did you really have to make it hurt so much?” To his horror, he felt tears in his eyes as a lump returned to his throat. No. He was not going to cry here. He wasn’t!

“A-Anders,” Hawke said hesitantly. “What are you talking about? I waited…I waited for you all night. I fell asleep waiting for you.”

“Stop it,” Anders choked out thickly. “The door was locked. I made sure. You don’t – I don’t want you to pity me!” he bit out. “I just – I just want to forget about it, all right?”

“But – “ Hawke said, confused. “I checked it. I checked it a dozen times before I went up to my room to wait. I _know_ it was unlocked!” 

Anders shook his head. Why did the man have to make everything worse? Why couldn’t he just let it _go_?

“Please,” Anders begged him, trying to collect himself. “Please, just drop it. I can’t… _do_ this. I understand why you locked the door. I get it. I just _can’t_ talk about it anymore.”

There was a long silence, Hawke not speaking and Anders trying (and failing) to rein in his emotions.

“Mother,” Hawke murmured finally, the realization dawning on him. “Dammit. Mother!”

“Did she finally warn you off me?” Anders asked, unable to help himself. “Is that what happened?”

“No!” Hawke said, sounding relieved for some strange reason. “No, Anders – Mother must’ve come home after I unlocked the door! She would have locked it behind her…and I fell asleep!”

“You don’t have to make up stories,” Anders said miserably. This was torture. “Just… _stop_.”

“Anders,” Hawke said desperately, falling to his knees in front of the mage and taking his hands. “Please…please listen to me. I wanted nothing more than for you to join me that night. I love you so much, Anders, so much it hurts. I’m sorry – so sorry. I had no idea. I didn’t even think about that. Please, Anders, I will apologize for a thousand years if you’ll forgive me. You can’t possibly know how much I wanted you there.” He broke off, sounding a little choked up himself. “If I’d known there was even a possibility of the door being locked accidentally…I would’ve torn the thing off the house, if it meant you’d come in.” 

He sounded so earnest, so desperate, that Anders couldn’t help but believe him. He knew Hawke; the man was _not_ that good a liar.

“It…it really was a mistake?” Anders whispered.

“It was,” Hawke promised, getting control over his voice. “The _worst_ mistake. Maker, Anders, please…please give me another chance. I love you more than I could ever say. Don’t let me lose you like this.”

Anders couldn’t think of what to say. Emotion was overwhelming him, and he couldn’t seem to find the words he wanted to say. Should say. He didn’t know what else to do…so he leaned forward, grabbed Hawke, and kissed him hard.

Hawke melted into him, throwing his arms around the mage and squeezing as tight as he could. Anders felt the man’s body trembling, clinging to his own, and pulled back from the kiss, squeezing Hawke tightly in return.

“I love you, too, Hawke,” Anders murmured shakily. “I’ve loved you for three years.”

“There we go!” Isabela’s voice came through the door, and Varric’s chuckle was audible, too. “Finally.”

“Isabela!” Hawke yelled. “You – you are the _worst_ – “

“Sorry, sweets, but it was the only way,” she grinned, opening the door so they could see her. Varric hurried away, out of view. Light flooded the room. “And now it’s all better!”

“I’m going to murder you,” Anders said conversationally, clearing his throat and getting to his feet, helping Hawke up too. “Both of you,” he added, raising his voice so Varric would hear.

“You adore me,” Isabela taunted, before hurrying away after Varric, laughing.

“We definitely have to get them back,” Hawke said, shaking his head. He hadn’t let go of Anders’ hand, and he squeezed it. “But… I can’t say I’m too upset.”

“I suppose it worked out,” Anders agreed with a small smile, looking at the rogue. 

“Can… can you give me another chance?” Hawke asked hopefully. “Come back to the manor with me?”

“I really do have a lot left to do at the clinic,” Anders hedged, biting his lip. “But… later?”

“Later, then,” Hawke said, relief all over his face. “And I swear, this time I will tear the door off its hinges if I need to.”

“I don’t think you need to go that far,” Anders said with a small chuckle. “Maybe I’ll just…. Knock this time.”

“Good idea,” Hawke agreed enthusiastically. “I’ll be there, Anders. I swear it.”

And so he was.

**Author's Note:**

> Title from "Missing You" by John Waite... it seemed appropriate for these two idiots who can't get it together! I love comments and kudos :)


End file.
